Home
by Questionable Answers
Summary: <html><head></head>After being away for so long, Hoenhiem has no clue what he has missed.</html>


All Roads Lead Home.

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><p>Hoenhiem stood on the cold steps of the central public library, feeling out of place. The world bustled around him; the sun that slowly made its way through the sky and the traffic that crawled through the square at his back seemed equally unimportant. He had an aimlessness about him, like he had nowhere to be and nothing to return to, a timelessness that watched the comings and goings of life with an impassive eye.<p>

That wasn't quite right. With a shake of his head, Hoenhiem pulled out of his habitually inert state of mind and back into the present moment. He did have something he had to do and - he hoped - a home to return to.

Home. How many years had it been since he had last allowed himself that luxury? The comfort of a familiar building was nothing without the loving warmth of a family. It was his home, waiting nestled in a small peaceful town, that allowed him to move forward. It was his family that made him realize how precious life could be.

He had forgotten what it felt like to want something so badly his bones ached. So many years of watching the pain and suffering of the human race had made it difficult to see the point of it all. He had become so accustomed to the flow of life - the give and take of the universe - that it no longer mattered what happened around him. A small flower was beautiful, but he would not mourn its loss. Peoples' struggle for survival was admirable, but he refused to become attached to their existence. What business was it of his if one man died or if one hundred men died?

But that was before he met Trisha. Trisha made every moment into a new eternity. Trisha took all of his detached apathy and turned it into true feeling. Trisha made every day an event to be enjoyed and cherished for what it was. It was for Trisha that he was here now because it was Trisha who made him see the value of an individual life.

The building in front of him was a familiar one. He knew the shape of every pillar and the space behind every door. After all, he had been present at its construction more than two hundred years ago. The strength of his muscles helped to carve this place from granite and marble. His own written works, on various subjects and under various pen names were held protected within its walls.

At that point in his cursed life he had still been determined to better the human race with his knowledge and skill. Bitterness had been creeping up behind him, but was not yet rooted deeply in his being. Hoenhiem of that time looked at the worst humanity had to offer and chose to see the best. Since then, words like 'worst' and 'best' ceased to carry any meaning; there was only what was, nothing more or less. Everything in this world existed without value, before he met Trisha.

Not long ago, less than one hundred years, he wouldn't have bothered. He knew the presence that lurked beneath the ground and he had no intention of getting involved with that thing's schemes, not again. The Dwarf in the Flask was not someone he wanted to meet ever again. The world was large and there were plenty of other places to explore. It had been on his way east across the desert that he had met Pinako and through her Trisha.

One party on the borderland of a country torn by war was all that it took. One firecracker of a woman who wouldn't take no for an answer and one little girl with a charming smile had undone centuries of doubt and despair in an instant. He hadn't realized right away, but then one night became two, a week became a month. He stayed, because for the first time in a very long while, there was something worth looking forward to.

Trisha was beautiful, even as a child. There was a life about her that he in all his travels had never seen before, something he thought to never see again. It was in her eyes, in the way she looked straight at him without fear or judgment. Judgment: the human artifice that had no place in nature and yet came so naturally to those who claimed to know truth. Children were somehow able to sense his true nature and mistrusted him instinctively; animals were the same. Trisha had looked at him with curious eyes, the same way she looked at every one and every thing that entered the realm of her awareness. The fundamental wrongness of his being did not bother her in the slightest.

He still could not believe that. He told himself that it was the novelty that kept him there, in a town brimming with life on the edge of a battlefield in the company of a child possessing honest eyes. He would move along once he had satisfied his own curiosity. He had wanted to see what she saw, to find out why life was so much better around her than anywhere else in the world.

He closed his own eyes in order to bring the memory of hers into sharper focus. They were grey and almost featureless, reminding him of the sky just before a spring rain. No roiling thunder, no howling wind, only the promise of life giving rain. He fell in love with those eyes, with that girl, with the fierce will of the people to survive. So he stayed and watched and waited as her innocent eyes became a knowing smile and her simple beauty grew and matured.

He was happy, and in his happiness he had almost allowed himself to forget. Forget his past, forget his limitless future and forget the shadow that hung over the people of this land, Trisha's land and now his land. The Homunculus was up to something, and he was sure it would not turn out well for his new family. He had been content to leave these people to thrive or fail by their own fortune, but now he had something to protect.

He opened his eyes and walked through the heavy wooden doors of the library, noting in passing that the intricate carvings had seen better days. The smell of the place was intoxicating, leather, parchment and dust mixing in a heady aroma that sent him back to his days as an apprentice alchemist. Every book ever written, every bit of knowledge passed from one generation to the next was a little miracle of human ingenuity and every library was a temple.

This place was steeped in purpose. Words waited for the day when they would inspire new thought or support a familiar argument. People wandered the stacks absorbing what knowledge they could and seeking what might be hidden among countless pages. There was nothing false here, no good or evil, only truth and those who seek it.

He had once sought Truth himself, as every alchemist - every human does. It took many frustrated years of learning every theory and skill he could before he realized that no one can know Truth in its entirety, the price was simply too great. He had given up, living aimlessly and without purpose, without joy or sadness or anger. Then Trisha had taught him to wait patiently and let Truth come to him. Every day with his family had brought with it a little piece of truth, a simple thing that never meant much and was easy to overlook. It was those little truths of daily life that were the most precious.

It had been news of the war that had tickled his intelligence into action. At first, he had put it down to the machinations of a bloodthirsty government, the latest link in a long and unbroken chain of war. Nothing too concerning, lands went to war all the time, and a nation in which the military ruled supreme could be expected to have more than its fair share of bloodshed. Normal, except there was that sick feeling all over the place, spreading out and under the whole country like rot.

They could still get out. He and Trisha could pack up the boys and their few possessions and flee to someplace where his past would not catch up. He didn't have to leave them behind to investigate on his own. He could protect his family first, without giving the rest of this place a second thought. Trish would go with him and love him still, but she would never forgive him for abandoning the nation, just as he would never forgive himself.

So he left for the front lines of war to see what he could make of it and what he saw was disturbing even to him. It was far more than a war, it was a massacre, the blood of both side soaked into the earth. Military mix ups had turned what could have been an easily settle conflict into outright rebellion. Actions taken in the name of peace managed to fan the flame of war. Perhaps the military was a lot more involved than Hoenhiem had ever imagined.

Other towns, other battlegrounds long abandoned told the same story. Families he met along dusty roads told tales not found in any history book, tales of military missteps that turned a single battle into a war. He could feel a pattern evolving under his feet, a shape unfolded in his mind; an array. As soon as he realized its shape and purpose, Hoenhiem began counter measures.

The huge array was simply mind blowing. If he was right about this, more that the people of Amestris would be at risk, the balance of everything could be thrown aside. The design was simple enough in theory but it required unheard of power in return for the whole Truth. Such a thing should be impossible, and yet… Hoenhiem could not allow the Dwarf in the Flask to succeed. Hoenhiem's own array was nearly complete. He just needed to check an updated astronomical chart and an old map.

He found the section without any difficulty. It wasn't quite where he had left it, but it was close enough he didn't need to ask an aide for help. He snatched volumes from the shelf almost at random, a little of this, some of that, one of those, and carried his haul over to the nearest worktable. It was an old sturdy thing that didn't as much as creak under the heavy burden and Hoenhiem approved.

It wasn't long before he was absorbed by the information, held captive by the quite atmosphere that surrounded him. It had been far too long since he had been in a decent library. It had taken years of traveling the countryside collecting stories for him to realize the extent of the Homunculus' plans, he didn't visit the cities often and then he didn't stay for long. The library in his home was comforting, but it was filled more with quality than quantity, it didn't have the sheer weight of words this one did.

He had thought of returning to that small basement library, it did have everything he needed to put the final touches on his counter plan. Returning home was not an option at this point, he would want too strongly to stay. The next time he returned he wanted it to be for good, without any doubt or uncertainties to mark the future. He couldn't even bring himself to call for fear of abandoning his responsibilities, instead he satisfied himself with the memory of her voice.

"Excuse me?" He was far too old for anything to surprise him anymore. That didn't mean the young lady at his elbow hadn't startled him half to death with her polite inquiry, it simply meant he was practiced enough not to jump. "Do I know you?" she continued.

He considered the girl for a moment. She was young, twenty years of age at the oldest, and she wore the vest that marked her as a staff member. She had a pretty face framed by a short cut, and had eyes that could cut through standard bullshit to find a kernel of truth. Hoenhiem was certain he had never met her before. He had a talent for remembering people.

"No, I've never had the pleasure of your acquaintance, miss…"

She caught the hint easily enough. "Oh. My name is Abigail. Are you sure? Because you look so familiar…" Abigail plopped herself gracelessly into an empty chair across from him. She considered him closely for a few seconds, also taking in the various sheets and tomes spread around him. Her eyes flicked back and forth as she compared what she was seeing to whatever mental picture was in her head.

Hoenhiem was curious. He was absolutely positive that this was his first time laying eyes on the girl. Perhaps he had a look alike walking around central somewhere. Other than the Homunculus of course, that guy was far too crafty to be caught so easily.

"Ah!" her exclamation startled Hoenhiem from his own considerations. She dropped a fist into her open palm with a slight slap, "I know who you remind me of! Edward. You look just like Edward."

It seemed like there were still surprises out there after all. Hoenheim exhaled deeply just to make sure he was still breathing. Edward, his bright eyed little boy, had been in the Central Library? It wasn't possible. It was some other Edward who just resembled Hoenhiem superficially. His Edward was at home taking care of his mother and little brother. There was no way little Edward would leave them behind.

Abigail either didn't notice his quiet shock or didn't care, because she continued speaking without hesitation. "Yeah, Ed. He's in here all the time. Nice guy. Everyone here either loves him 'cause he always takes proper care of the books or hates him cause he retunes them on time. And he needs help reaching the top shelves, but you gotta be real careful how you offer. If you call him short he'll tear you to shreds. Oh, I'm sorry. You're busy. I should go."

She started to rise, but as much as Hoenheim wanted to believe _this _Edward was not _his_ Edward, he needed more information. "No, it's not a bother." His voice did nothing to betray the emotion underneath. "Why might you think I was this Edward?"

"Oh, you're not similar enough to be mistaken. Ed is only…what, fifteen? Yeah. And he's short for his age. But the way he looks now, in ten years or so he'd be just the same as you. Same hair, same eyes," she stopped to giggle, "picturing him with a beard is just too weird."

The more she spoke the less certain Hoenheim became. But why would Edward be here? What was he studying that brought him to one of the biggest libraries in Amestris often enough to be so clearly remembered?

"…and he does just the same thing." Hoenhiem blinked, realizing that he had missed something important.

"I'm sorry, what thing?"

"Explodes all over the table." As if that made any sense at all. She seemed to read his confusion, "Notes and books and stuff. He takes up as much space as four other people combined." Her eyes lit as something interesting occurred to her. "You wouldn't happen to be an alchemist would you? I haven't met many, I wonder if this…organized chaos is a common trait."

Hoenhiem raised an eyebrow. This girl was more than inquisitive, she was sharp. There was more to intelligence than the simple collection of information. The ability to combine knowledge into a novel and accurate conclusion was rare and valuable. "I am, though I admit I haven't paid much attention to the study habits of my peers. I'm usually more interested in what is on the paper than who is reading it."

She nodded in complete understanding. "That must be another thing alchemists have in common. People come second to science." The statement was impersonal and curious, born from observation rather than experience. "So are you freelance or state?"

"Freelance." Abigail hummed in the back of her throat, still making comparisons and drawing inferences. "I take it Edward is state licenced." Polite conversation born of practice came easily to his lips. It was far easier to gather information with friendly inquires than impatient interrogation. If Hoenhiem had one single virtue, it was patience. He had all the time in the world.

"Haven't you heard of him?" her bewilderment was honest. "I thought everyone knew about the Fullmetal alchemist." The title was familiar. Even in the smallest of the outlying towns there were stories told of the mysterious and formidable armor clad alchemist.

Hoenheim allowed himself to relax. His Edward had no reason to become a dog of the military. It was all just a strange coincidence. "Only in passing. I'm not often in the city, you see. So the rumour he is over seven feet tall is a fallacy?"

Abigail frowned as if his ignorance were a personal affront. She immediately set about correcting any and all misconceptions. "Like I said, Ed is young, just a kid really. He's short and he's got a temper and he's stubborn as a mule, but no one can dispute his right to his pocket watch. The boy is a genius. His brother, Al, is really good too. Good enough to qualify, but for some reason he hasn't even tried. Just because he's in that armor all the time, people think he's slow, stupid, or brutal, but really he's just sweet kid. Together they make one of the best tag teams I've ever seen. Anyone who says a word against them will have to deal with me." Her eye's burned, daring him to argue. Hoenhiem, with all of his experience, knew better.

"You say they are brothers named Edward and Al. May I ask, is Al short for something?" Hoenhiem was almost afraid to hear the answer. This was not what he was expecting to find when he came here looking for answers. Libraries were truly wonders of knowledge and learning.

"Wow, you must live under a rock." Her words contained no malice. "Edward and Alphonse Elric are famous."

Hoenhiem took a few deep breaths with witch to organize his thoughts before nodding and thanking Abigail for her time and gathering up his notes. "Are you leaving already?" Abigail reached to help clear the table. "You can leave the books out. It is my job to make sure the stacks are properly arranged after all."

"No no, I don't mind cleaning up and you don't have to worry, I know where it all goes."

"Did you find everything you needed?" Abigail dropped the chatty attitude and donned the professional air associated with service workers. It was her job to help.

Hoenheim nodded. "Thank you. My visit here was quite informative."

"Come back anytime." Abigail then wandered away to see what other interesting conversations could be found in a palace of books.

Edward and Alphonse Elric; there was no mistake or coincidence. Edward alone in the city was difficult to imagine, but if he had Alphonse with him the situation became more plausible. Now the only question left was why they were here at all. Perhaps something had forced them away form the home he remembered. It was possible Hoenhiem's newfound family simply moved to the city.

Abigail said Edward was a state licensed alchemist. Hoenhiem was not surprised to learn his sons were skilful alchemists, but the fact that they were working for the military concerned him greatly. From what he had learned in his travels, this country's military was under the direct control of the homunculus. Just what happened during Hoenhiem's absence that Trisha would allow the boys to do something so reckless?

Hoenhiem needed to speak with his wife directly. Thinking about this new information would not give him any answers. If they had abandoned the house Hoenhiem had built, than he had no Idea where to find them now. The best place to start would be back in Reisembool. If Trisha wasn't there, he would ask Pinako where to find her. His mission was not yet complete, but his family came first. He was going home.

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><p>FIN<p>

Just because I can't imagine Mr. Hoenhiem just ignoring Trisha's death.


End file.
